Helen of Troy | Page 4

and stinted not the rare?Wine from Ismarian vineyards of the North.
III.
The men drave up a heifer from the field
For sacrifice, and sheath'd her horns with gold;?And strong Boethous the axe did wield
And smote her; on the fruitful earth she roll'd,?And they her limbs divided; fold on fold?They laid the fat, and cast upon the fire
The barley grain. Such rites were wrought of old?When all was order'd as the Gods desire.
IV.
And now the chariots came beneath the trees
Hard by the palace portals, in the shade,?And Menelaus knew King Diocles
Of Pherae, sprung of an unhappy maid?Whom the great Elian River God betray'd?In the still watches of a summer night,
When by his deep green water-course she stray'd?And lean'd to pluck his water-lilies white.
V.
Besides King Diocles there sat a man
Of all men mortal sure the fairest far,?For o'er his purple robe Sidonian
His yellow hair shone brighter than the star?Of the long golden locks that bodeth war;?His face was like the sunshine, and his blue
Glad eyes no sorrow had the spell to mar?Were clear as skies the storm hath thunder'd through.
VI.
Then Menelaus spake unto his folk,
And eager at his word they ran amain,?And loosed the sweating horses from the yoke,
And cast before them spelt, and barley grain.?And lean'd the polish'd car, with golden rein,?Against the shining spaces of the wall;
And called the sea-rovers who follow'd fain?Within the pillar'd fore-courts of the hall.
VII.
The stranger-prince was follow'd by a band
Of men, all clad like rovers of the sea,?And brown'd were they as is the desert sand,
Loud in their mirth, and of their bearing free;?And gifts they bore, from the deep treasury?And forests of some far-off Eastern lord,
Vases of gold, and bronze, and ivory,?That might the Pythian fane have over-stored.
VIII.
Now when the King had greeted Diocles
And him that seem'd his guest, the twain were led?To the dim polish'd baths, where, for their ease,
Cool water o'er their lustrous limbs was shed;?With oil anointed was each goodly head?By Asteris and Phylo fair of face;
Next, like two gods for loveliness, they sped?To Menelaus in the banquet-place.
IX.
There were they seated at the King's right hand,
And maidens bare them bread, and meat, and wine,?Within that fair hall of the Argive land
Whose doors and roof with gold and silver shine?As doth the dwelling-place of Zeus divine.?And Helen came from forth her fragrant bower
The fairest lady of immortal line,?Like morning, when the rosy dawn doth flower.
X.
Adraste set for her a shining chair,
Well-wrought of cedar-wood and ivory;?And beautiful Alcippe led the fair,
The well-beloved child, Hermione, -?A little maiden of long summers three -?Her star-like head on Helen's breast she laid,
And peep'd out at the strangers wistfully?As is the wont of children half afraid.
XI.
Now when desire of meat and drink was done,
And ended was the joy of minstrelsy,?Queen Helen spake, beholding how the sun
Within the heaven of bronze was riding high:?"Truly, my friends, methinks the hour is nigh?When men may crave to know what need doth bring
To Lacedaemon, o'er wet ways and dry,?This prince that bears the sceptre of a king?
XII.
"Yea, or perchance a God is he, for still
The great Gods wander on our mortal ways,?And watch their altars upon mead or hill
And taste our sacrifice, and hear our lays,?And now, perchance, will heed if any prays,?And now will vex us with unkind control,
But anywise must man live out his days,?For Fate hath given him an enduring soul.
XIII.
"Then tell us, prithee, all that may be told,
And if thou art a mortal, joy be thine!?And if thou art a God, then rich with gold
Thine altar in our palace court shall shine,?With roses garlanded and wet with wine,?And we shall praise thee with unceasing breath;
Ah, then be gentle as thou art divine,?And bring not on us baneful Love or Death!"
XIV.
Then spake the stranger,--as when to a maid
A young man speaks, his voice was soft and low, -?"Alas, no God am I; be not afraid,
For even now the nodding daisies grow?Whose seed above my grassy cairn shall blow,?When I am nothing but a drift of white
Dust in a cruse of gold; and nothing know?But darkness, and immeasurable Night.
XV.
"The dawn, or noon, or twilight, draweth near
When one shall smite me on the bridge of war,?Or with the ruthless sword, or with the spear,
Or with the bitter arrow flying far.?But as a man's heart, so his good days are,?That Zeus, the Lord of Thunder, giveth him,
Wherefore I follow Fortune, like a star,?Whate'er may wait me in the distance dim.
XVI.
"Now all men call me PARIS, Priam's son,
Who widely rules a peaceful folk and still.?Nay, though ye dwell afar off, there is none
But hears of Ilios on the windy hill,?And of the plain that the two rivers fill?With murmuring sweet streams the whole year long,
And walls the Gods have wrought with wondrous skill?Where cometh never man to do us wrong.
XVII.
"Wherefore I sail'd not here for help in war,
Though well the Argives in such need